


Me, yes, me.

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-27
Updated: 2007-10-27
Packaged: 2019-01-19 22:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12419331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: That night, you got under my skin so deeply that I thought I’d never flush you out. But we were fighting, and we were meaning it. It was us, as we were always intended to be. It was you, loving me. Me, yes, me.





	Me, yes, me.

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

            I’ve been dangling. I’ve feel like I’ve been on the verge of finding out just what it is that makes me so easily discarded. All this time, I’ve prided myself on being different than the other girls. Studious yes, but not so much so that I can’t let my hair down every once in a while as well. And I have morals. I have beliefs. But it seems that nobody likes a loyal girl any more. Just one without any expeditions, somebody without any goals. Who wants a rule-abiding stick-in-the-mud, when there are girls who will give themselves up the second you flash them a smile, or compliment them on their new robes?

            It isn’t their fault, though. Attention can make any girl blind-sighted. All we crave for is the emotional security of having somebody there who understands. Not just a mate, no… we’ll trick ourselves into believing we’ve found the right bloke, because nobody wants to be alone. You can’t breathe without lungs. You can’t eat without a mouth. And we can’t feel without them.

            My fellow 7th year girls complain endlessly. Nobody is good enough for them. But they let themselves be tossed around just as easily. And they’re beginning to settle. They’re settling for anything but special. It’s just an illusion. They’re in the midst of writing their stories of the common uncommonly love between two people. I supposed that makes me slightly hypocritical. I had a love that was commonly uncommon, I did. But it was more than that. It was everything.

            He never let me down. No matter where I was, he seemed to be close by, as if he had an ever-infuriating Lily-monitor permanently attached to his hip. Or his heart. But I had never bothered to ask. There were so many things I had never bothered to ask.

            Why? Why me, out of everybody else in the entire Hogwarts’ population? I’m not the only redhead here. There are plenty of well adjusted, hard to get women that surround these halls. But he chose me. I was special. And after endless years of chasing after me, he finally received his prize. Reciprocal feelings. I wanted to love him. I think I still do.

            Everything is terrifying when you’re falling for somebody. I had been hurt before. Neglected. Not just by boys, (although that seemed to happen quite often) but by family as well. My sister can barely stand to look at me. Yet while she was off canoodling with the hulk of a man she calls her fiancé, I was experiencing something new. Love. And I was afraid.

            It started off simply. A few knowing glances between us across the lunch table, a nod of acknowledgment in the hallway. The casual brush of feet as we began to sit next to each other in classes, which led to the simple, yet electrifying, grazes of our hands as we patrolled the corridors together. Before we knew it, we were lying together outside the Hogwarts grounds. He had convinced me to go on a date with him, and I had accepted. I was thrilled. I was timid. And then I was lost. Lost to him.

            He was dizzying. I was breathless. The world was spinning, and it was all I could do to hold on, and keep staring into his penetrating eyes that encased me. The deep shade of hazel sent frenzied shivers down my spine. The world was spinning, and I was his world, and somehow throughout all of the chaos that we were, his breath met my ears as he whispered non-sense about how he thought I was beautiful, _beautiful_. He was the only person to ever speak these words to me, and I found myself grateful and OK with the fact that is was James Potter that spoke them. But I couldn’t think. Our senses escalated a few degrees, and every soft caress of his skin on mine felt like fire, but good fire, the burning flame of fire that’s so dangerous, yet you don’t want to put out. I didn’t know what I wanted, but all I needed was him at that moment, as he was making me fall, deeper and deeper into himself. He was captivating.

            After that night, we were together more often than not, but he never made me feel as if I was losing myself. I stopped trying to convince myself we were so different, because I knew we were the same. I was scared, yes, but so enraptured into him that I tried not to care. Oh, we fought endlessly, but our fights held passion. You made me angry, and you made me laugh, and you called me beautiful. You made me feel more in one fight, mixtures of anticipation, and tension, and giddiness, more than even Dorcas and Alice have ever made me feel. I found myself liking the fact that you took me to these leveled-heights of emotion. You never tried to distract me from all the terror that was the real world, but you broadened me. I like to think I broadened you up, as well.

            Around that time, I became awed by you. You were much more powerful than I had ever given you credit for, and you made me the center of your world. You were jealous of me. You told me I had something to work for, while you were handed everything you’d ever wanted. And then it hit me. Everything was going so nicely, that I was sure of it. I was sure you had changed. I realized then that you never changed, no, just changed the way I looked at you. I told you this, and you stared at me. There was an odd look on your features, something hidden, something I didn’t understand. You said I was astounding. Infallible. The infallible Lily Evans. I melted. Outstandingly enough, that was the night I fell.

            Blaine, my owl, sent me post. I stormed out of the Great hall that night, somewhat sad, but mostly in shock. I lashed out at the people who tried to stop me, and hid near the lake. You knew where to find me, and at the slightest touch, I surrendered. I was yours, and I was fearful about it, yet nobody else had made me feel so full. I told you about my struggles at home. You, yes, _you_ were the first to find out about Petunia, and how my parents and I were slowly drifting apart. But we couldn’t drift anymore. They had been murdered. All you did was hug me. You didn’t tell me to stop crying, or try to wipe away my tears. Then you did something unforgivable. You said you loved me. Me, yes, _me._ And I knew then that I didn’t care if I was unsure, or whatever I was. You had been wrapped around my finger before that night. I was now wrapped around yours.

And after all that, you told me I was brilliant. My eyes were puffy, my hair was frizzing out (as we had sat outside in the rain) and my body was shaking, the tears having taken a toll on me. You reassured me, and took care of me. You carried me back to my room, where we lay on my bed. But we didn’t say a word. We didn’t kiss, we didn’t hug, we didn’t touch. Laying there, gazing at you, I felt safe. I had the security blanket. I had love. As you got up to leave, I muttered some barely-coherent innuendo about how you were wrong, about how I fell. You kept walking, I thought you didn’t hear me. But just as you opened my door to pass on to your room, you turned back.

            “You’ll always be infallible to me.”

            I knew you so well. You weren’t as self-confident as you pretended to be. Sometimes, in the midst of everything, while the world went on, time stopped for us. You would look at me, and you’re eyes, those dark hazel eyes, would be full of restlessness, and distress. Although this bothered me, I never broke contact… I always looked back. We understood the world wasn’t doing well at the moment. You helped me accept that. You helped me accept you.

            I can’t pinpoint the exact time when things began to change. I just remember the night you got the letter from your parents, asking you to come back for the hols, alone. They needed to talk to you about something important, and you didn’t know what. As soon as I knew you were leaving, I broke down. I wasn’t accustomed to feeling this way. I had told you I loved you, yes. I knew I was a goner for all that you were. But I didn’t know that just the thought of you leaving me would make me turn into the gooey sentimental mess that was everything I wasn’t. This turned me off of everything. I wanted you… I needed you to feel. But I would rather have let you go then gone on feeling dependant on somebody else. So I turned cold. You returned, and I avoided you as best I could, but you sought me out, as only you could do. You had changed.

            Voldemort is rising, you told me. You couldn’t yet tell that I was frightened to be near you, frightened to lose all of myself again. You explained to me that you were going to become an auror, with your three best friends, a bond I had always been envious of. You three understood one another, connected in a way I craved to have with my girlfriends. It was the way I connected with you. This is when I broke down.

            You wrapped me in your arms, and as I struggled to push you away, you only squeezed me tighter. I need you, you gasped. You turned to look at me. I always looked back, but this time, I didn’t. That is when you let me go, and that is when I ran.

            I tried to outrun you, James. But no matter what, you keep creeping back into my thoughts. As tirelessly as you pursued me those years ago, you are pursuing me now. In silence. I want to break.

L…..J

            Why did you leave me alone? I was wondering, and waiting, and watching, and not receiving any of you.. You used to be so persistent. You used to follow me endlessly. Why didn’t you then? Couldn’t you see that I needed you? I wanted to accuse you of not being there, but inside I knew the truth… it was all my fault. You never used to deny me… why did you decide to? Because I told you without words that I didn’t want you anymore. So you left me alone. And there I was, being the selfish hypocrite I still am, wanting you back.

            You were sitting alone at the table. Sirius and Remus didn’t even approach you anymore. You had stopped looking up when I arrived. I missed your sly insinuations to me, and our talks. You used to be my James. I used to belong to you. Your friends miss your presence as well.

            Marlene approached me the other day. We talked. In the end, she forced out the truth. It was me that brought this upon us. It is me that needs to end it as well.

            James, I’m not afraid anymore. I need you, but not just that. I want you as well. Not just because I can no longer stand you’re friends’ accusing glares. I can hear what they’re thinking. Are you happy now? Are you _happy_ that you’re apart, that he’s changed? I know the answer.

            So I cornered you, I forced you to listen. You were sitting in our head common room, writing a letter. A letter telling your father that you weren’t going to join the auror forces any longer. You just wanted to play Quidditch. So I broke.

            Why James? Why are you changing so much? I know you, I claimed. I _know_ that you want Voldemort down. I know you want to be the one to do it, so why are you putting your dreams aside? You’re pushing away your friends. You’re hurting yourself.

            And you retorted by asking why I pushed away you. Wasn’t this what I wanted? you asked. Didn’t I _want_ him to not join the aurors, but to be there for me, always? You asked me to just tell you what I wanted. I knew… I didn’t want you to be miserable. And I certainly never wanted you to change.

            We fought. We fought so hard that my mind was breaking, and my tears were flowing, but this, this was finally real. I felt sick, I felt elated, I felt broken, but more than any of that, I felt whole. You’re heart was racing, and you’re eyes were flashing a dangerous shade of brown with green, but you were talking, finally talking, _really_ talking, not just the polite pass the butter at breakfast.

            That night, you got under my skin so deeply that I thought I’d never flush you out. But we were fighting, we were really meaning it, and it almost felt like bliss to me. It was an orchestra, it was an O in transfiguration, it was the last slice of Shepard pie. It was us as we were always intended to be, and after it was done, the exhaustion and fulfillment settled it, and we found ourselves on your bed again. But we were talking, we were kissing, we were laughing, and we were us.

            Are you happy? He asked me. And I didn’t have to pause to answer, because I was. No matter where he was, at auror training, or just a room away, we were together. I wasn’t scared. Yes, I answered. Are you happy? He smiled at me. Yes.

            Slowly, with shaking fingers, we undressed one another, and I wasn’t bashful. I wasn’t worrying about anything but us, as ourselves, about then, about him. And right after everything was finished, he looked me in the eye, and I didn’t look away. I knew I never would.

            Are we here? I asked him. And because of who we are, he understood the question I was secretly asking him, the confirmation that he wasn’t leaving, that this was happening, that we were real. I was there. He was there. We were together. You answered yes. You knew exactly what I meant.

            I fell asleep in your arms that night, for the first time. Right before I fell asleep, I heard you murmur that I was brilliant. I was infallible. Me, yes, me.

**L......J**

**Disclaimer:** I don’t own anything related to Harry Potter.

**A/N:** Just a one-shot that kind of popped up in my mind, so I went with it. This more than anything is the way I imagine James and Lily to be. Perfect in their imperfections. Hopefully a good read, because I’ve finally been able to portray my point of view in a story (my last attempt was pure, unoriginal rubbish.) Right, please review and I hope you enjoyed it! 


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